


Somno

by Kymopoleia



Series: Voltron: Questionable and Uncomfortable [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Somnophilia, Trans Male Character, Unfinished, at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7950853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i don't care about finishing this anymore so here it is</p><p>Keith and Lance banter and frilly underwear</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somno

Sometimes Keith regretted not having really committed to a religion. His parents had been relatively devout jews and raised him as such, but they’d died before his concept of religion really sank in and left him lost. He could have gone with something else, but there’d never been time and never been a chance and he’d never really wanted to.

So sometimes, when the regret coils in the pit of his stomach like a sleeping snake, he wishes he had something to call out to for help and guidance. Like, right about now.

Lance had a bad habit of falling asleep at random places in the castle. Usually it wasn’t that big of a deal, but he also had a habit of kicking his shoes, socks, and pants off while he dozed. Fortunately, he was a light sleeper and easily woken up by yelling to put his clothing back on, but unfortunately for Keith, he ended up in some awkward positions. Distracting positions. Why was Keith disgusting?

Lance is currently in one of the lesser-used sitting rooms, the sleek couch his bed. It would have been nothing if he was laying on it normally, but no. He’s slouched over the back of it, ass in the air and head on the seat, using his jacket as a pillow. More than that, his shirt was pooled around his shoulder blades and his pants around his mid thighs and his legs spread.

And he seemed to be sound asleep.

Keith had come in on a whim, not quite looking for anyone or anything, per say, but acting on instinct. Kind of like how he’d been on the brim of finding the blue lion, he found the blue paladin.

If it weren’t for the ass he was staring at, Keith would kind of want to laugh. As it stood, he kind of wanted to cry.

For starters, Lance apparently had an ass hidden under those jeans and that skin tight paladin suit. Keith wouldn’t have believed it if he weren’t staring at it. The expanse of smooth coppery brown skin above and below also didn’t help. Even something that should have factored in and taken care of everything in his stomach and rising up to beat heavily in his throat, the fact that this was Lance, did nothing.

More than the general fact that Lance apparently had a nicer pair of cheeks down below than above, he was wearing something distracting to. And, yeah, Keith never seemed to find any clothing distracting. But the frilly, lacy, pale blue boyshorts on the most annoying boy he know’s ass was beyond distracting.

There seemed to be little holes in the lace- shut up, Keith was just noticing, he knows that’s how lace worked. But there were little holes sort of, and the skin was clear through them, inviting looking and seeming warm.

Keith will happily reiterate that he is absolutely _disgusting_.

It’s after too many minutes of staring and holding his breath and swallowing, Keith reaches out and gently skims two fingers up the back of Lance’s thigh.

Lance squirms a bit, but Keith can still hear his slow breathing and, assured that his team member is asleep, he lets his hand settle just below the lace, on the curve of his ass.

Keith feels big and heavy right now, his hand seeming to burn against the cold skin.

He swallows and pulls his hand back, clenching it into a fist for a second before gently letting his hand go back, this time to brush the pads of his fingers over the lace. It’s kind of scratchy, and he’s not sure why Lance is wearing it, but he guesses he might be able to see the appeal.

He slides his fingers down and pushes them just slightly under the fabric.

There’s a noise almost like a snort from Lance as he shifts, opening his legs more. A fearful glance at Lance’s face shows he’s still asleep, which doesn’t make Keith feel any better about touching him. But here he still is, skimming his fingers over Lance’s ass and tracing little patterns here and there.

One of the patterns take him up towards the top of the boyshorts, to trace over the little dip in Lances back before going back to the side he hadn’t been on before. He feels almost mesmerized, as if he’s trying to memorize every little strip and crossing of threads.

Keith settles his hand down again and squeezes gently, face a shade his lion would be jealous of. Why hadn’t he stopped already? He’d never really wanted to touch Lance’s ass before, so he didn’t know what made it so different now. Well, yeah he did, but he’d also never really cared about lace before.

He squeezes again, hand lingering but with plans to actually wake Lance up now (or leave him for someone else to wake up, because Keith felt kind of dirty) but then there’s the tiniest cough and a “ _Carajo_ , Keith, raw me already.”

Keith snatches his hand back and holds it to his chest as if he’s been burned. “W-what?”

He looks over the couch again to see that Lance has opened one eye and turned to see Keith, wiggling his ass slightly as he starts talking again. “What? You can touch a sleeping ass but not an awake one, mullethead? I knew you were a creeeeeeeep~”

Keith, without thinking, bats at Lance’s ass in an attempt to shut him up. “It’s not my fault you take your clothes off while you sleep! Why are you even wearing lace? What if Allura had walked in!”

Lance jerks at the hit, ass stilling again. “Hopefully also woken up when she touched me? Your hands are really hot.”

Keith swallows, then presses it to Lance’s hip. Lance almost sways, but pretty much stays put.

“Why did you say that thing? And why didn’t you let me know you were awake sooner?”

“I wanted to know what you’d do. And… that was me telling you what I wanted you to do.” Lance replies, voice very soft.

Keith swallows again. “What?”

“You heard me!” Lance snaps. “Okay? Now either finish what you started or leave me alone.”

Keith bites his lip and squeezes Lance’s hip, moving to stand behind him again. “You aren’t tell anyone about this, right?”

“You think I want anyone knowing I asked you to fuck me while I was wearing girl underwear?” Lance replies, shifting so that Keith can get closer. “There’s literally nothing about that that I want getting out.”

Keith settles his other hand down on the opposite side, sliding them down to squeeze again, pulling a small gasp out of the other boy. “Do you atleast want to move? This can’t be comfortable.”

“Do you think I’d willingly let you put me ass-up anywhere else? Take what you can get, chico.”

Keith sighed, and it was one of suffering. “Fine. Uh, do you have any…”

“Condoms? Um, kind of?”

“How do you kind of have condoms?”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be way too big for your micro dick…”

Keith hit Lance’s ass again. “You aren’t funny,” He pauses. “What’s your last name?”

“Sanchez- but no, no fucking way are you calling me that.”

Keith grinned to himself and pinched Lance. “I so am, Sanchez.”

Lance whines at him. “Noooo, my last name isn’t sexy at all!”

“And you think Lance is?”

There’s a loud pout that Keith can just imagine as he lets himself relax, working the lace down and trying very hard not to stare too long at any one spot of skin. There’s freckles all the way through that he never would have seen otherwise, and some thin white scars that look too straight to have been natural. Keith notices though, some faded and more organic scars, and runs his thumb down one… Root system? Type thing? He had no clue.

“Stretch marks.” Lance mumbles, and Keith blinks. Oh. That made sense.

He ignores that and pushes the lace the rest of the way down, squeezing again.

“Are you just going to touch, or are you going to put your pencil eraser to use?” Lance’s voice comes again, and if he’d thought he was able to ignore it earlier he was wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

Keith lifts his hand before thinking better of it and undoing his belt, shimmying his pants down his hips. “Hey, where’s the condom?”

Lance fumbles, ass wobbling in a way that should be impossible. How were his pants so unflattering that this goldmine were being hidden underneath? Keith reaches out to steady him, thumbs indenting the softer flesh on the back and fingers spreading over the front of Lance’s thighs. He lets one slide forward experimentally and meets only soft skin and wiry tufts of hair, surprising but not unwelcome. It draws another soft whine from Lance as his fingers dip down to explore as the other reaches back to wave a condom at him.

“Here, je-ahhrk.” He stumbles over the word, but the meaning comes through pretty well.

Keith takes it with the hand not preoccupied with the wonders of fingering and tries to figure out how to apply it one handed before giving in and pulling his hand back. It isn’t a familiar sensation, and the rubber is tight, but he chooses safety over comfort. And rightly so, because Lance is bouncing his leg like he needs to move, like he’s regretting asking Keith.

Keith is regretting asking Keith because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s just touching and saying the wrong things and guessing. The last time he’d done anything, he’d taken it, but now his cock is mostly hard and half-standing, and his hands are busying themselves with trying to spread the asscheeks and make sure that his teammate is ready.

“If you don’t hurry up I’m going to actually fall asleep again.” Lance threatens, voice suspiciously haughty considering the words coming from his mouth.

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Error 69-420, you chose the wrong hole to complain about that.” Lance throws on a disturbingly high pitched, sickly sweet tone for the phrase. Then he shakes his head, voice not quite as deep as he usually had it. “Shut up, Keith.”

“You’re the one that’s talking to me!”

“Do you want somewhere to stick your dick? That is my last condom. Don’t make me regret letting you use it.”


End file.
